Against the Grain
by TheDoublemintTwins11
Summary: There is a natural order of things, and Ace quickly finds that if you go against it, more bad tends to come from it than good. ::AU:: ::SmoAce:: ::mentions of ZoLu because I couldn't resist::


**This is a birthday fic for our beloved T. The only difference between this and all the other birthday fics on FFNET is that it's not actually her birthday, it's ours. I know what you're thinking. "You just want this as an excuse to write a fic!" Wrong. We do this kinda thing every year, and our family has resigned themselves to demanding gifts that cost us nothing, since they know that we're going to get them **_**something**_**. I mean, a birthday is a holiday right? And what do we do on holidays? **_**Exchange gifts.**_** Ha! See, makes sense, doesn't it? So happy our-birthday, T!**

**So yeah, enjoy the story, and our not-so-normal tradition :D**

**Against the Grain**

**-DMTwins-**

Ace glanced out the window. It was almost completely dark, with only the faintest traces of dawn on the horizon. Now, _why_ was he awake early enough to greet the sun? He hadn't been woken by anything. He felt rested. If he'd been woken he would undoubtedly be tired. No, he had woken of his own accord. He sighed. It just wasn't his day to be lazy.

He turned his head to face the second mystery of the day. It was almost six in the morning, but the room, no; the entire apartment was completely silent. Normally Smoker was awake at this ungodly hour, up and doing _something_ he deemed important enough to do at the crack of dawn.

He looked very placid in his sleep. Smoker spent just about every waking moment of his life glowering, and Ace had to admit, he looked cute in his sleep, without the frown creasing his forehead.

Ace almost laughed outright when he realized he'd just described _Smoker_ as _cute_—they weren't exactly synonymous—and then again when he imagined the look on Smoker's face if he actually told him that he looked cute. It certainly wouldn't be as peaceful as it was now.

Ace glanced again at the clock. He really didn't feel like lying around in bed until Smoker woke up. He gently moved the cop's arm (which had come to rest on his chest at some point in the night) before sliding out of bed. After a long pause Ace was satisfied that he hadn't woken him. He would go and buy coffee, he decided. Smoker should be awake by the time he got back.

Ace grabbed a pair of pants from the floor and began to get dressed in the dark so that he wouldn't wake Smoker. He grabbed his hat off the dresser, then, after a slight pause, went back for a shirt. The last time he'd tried to buy something shirtless they'd kicked him out with a "No shirt, no shoes, no service" policy.

He shuffled around on the floor, searching for a shirt that he could wear, but found none. Irritated, he whirled around and his eyes rested on a jacket draped over a chair across the room. It was Smoker's, and he needed it for work, but Ace needed a shirt. Not to mention the fact this taking his jacket would prevent Smoker from leaving for work before Ace got back—he wouldn't put it past him.

Ace grabbed the jacket and left the apartment, pulling it fully on as he glided down the steps. It smelled like cigars and big-business. Well…if big-business had a smell, this would be it. He stepped outside and was instantly thankful that he'd grabbed a jacket. It was cold, and Ace _hated _the cold. He pulled the coat tighter around himself and quickly crossed the street, deciding that he would buy gas-station coffee, since it was a shorter walk.

He sighed as he walked; blearily rubbing his eyes and cursing God for making him wake up so early in the damn morning. He shoved his hands in his pant's pocket as the gas-station came into view, grabbing his wallet to see how much money had available to spend. Only, it wasn't his wallet. In fact, these weren't even his _pants._ He groaned, realizing his mistake. He must have grabbed the wrong pair in the dark. Oh well, it looked like coffee was Smoker's treat today. He smirked at the badge pinned to the inside of Smoker's wallet—it was cool-looking.

With his foot, he pulled open the door, digging through the wallet and praying that Smoker had enough for coffee. He was pleasantly surprised, and quickly decided that today would be a coffee _and_ doughnuts day. Definitely.

Smiling to himself, he slipped the wallet into his coat pocket and walked to the back of the store. He grabbed two Styrofoam cups and set them to the machine, sitting back to wait for the cups to fill.

A nervous-looking man walked in through the entrance, but Ace paid no attention to him. That is, until the man produced a gun from inside his jacket, screaming "this is a hold-up" as though he was in a cliché movie.

The cashier seemed much less amused by this than Ace was, and the only other person in the gas-station made a dash for a door before the gunman could stop him. Ace sighed and put the lids on his coffee, before grabbing a couple doughnuts from inside a display. The gunman, seeing him out of the corner of his eye, motioned for him to move into view, never taking his eyes off of the cashier.

Ace complied, leaving his items on the counter. They would just have to wait until the cops showed up, and then he could go. It was a pain, though. Having to wait until the cops showed up, and then even longer when they realized that this guy had hostages.

_This _is what happened when he went against the grain and got up early. Never. Again. In fact, tomorrow he was sleeping until noon at least. Just in case. Tiredly, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and ran his fingers over the wallet thoughtfully, a mischievous grin making its way across his face.

This guy was obviously a pansy; he was shaking all the way up to his arm. In fact, Ace doubted he could shoot the broad side of a barn, the way his hand was shaking. He'd probably only seen robberies in movies, because the _cashier_ looked calmer than he did. And that was saying something. The thief looked harmless… or at least, that was what Ace had originally thought. After all, his brother's boyfriend was scarier than this guy. Then again, Zoro was about as bad as Smoker when he wanted to be, so he supposed that that was a moot point.

But Ace's entire thought process was derailed when the faint sound of a police siren came from somewhere outside the building. It was like a switch had gone off; the man began panicking, and suddenly decided that the cashier wasn't getting him his money fast enough. He fired a bullet into the wall behind the cashier. Ace was right, he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn, but his eyes still widened at the display.

It had been a stupid idea…one that came in passing, but Ace found himself grabbing the wallet from inside his pocket nonetheless. He flipped it open to reveal the badge, stepping forward with a hand resting on his back—taking care to position himself so that the man couldn't see that he was reaching for an imaginary gun.

"Police! Drop your weapon!" He screamed, putting on his best Smoker impression while trying not to give himself away by laughing. The gunman and the cashier both jumped, and the gun clattered to the floor when the gunman caught sight of the badge and Ace, who was standing only a few feet away. The man realized, a little too late, that he shouldn't have dropped the gun, and Ace quickly kicked it across the floor and under a freezer containing ice cream.

The man, now disarmed, turned to run out the front door, but stopped short when he caught sight of the _real _police. One officer stepped inside, shouting for him to freeze and put his hands on his head. Ace smirked and went to retrieve his coffee.

"I said freeze!" Ace stopped and turned, a confused look making its way onto his face.

"What? Me?"

-------

Smoker sighed as he walked outside to retrieve the mail. He wasn't in a great mood; after all, he'd woken up to find his pants, jacket, _and_ his boyfriend missing. He could only hope that Ace was _wearing _his clothes instead of doing something weird with them.

He was wearing only a pair of sweats, since he didn't really feel like getting fully dressed only to change as soon as Ace got back. He went to rifle through the mailbox, and finding nothing of interest, turned to go inside. He stopped. There was a commotion down the street, and, being curious, he started down the street, jokingly thinking that it probably had something to do with Ace.

Jokingly, that is, until he arrived at the gas station, just in time to see Ace being led into a police car, decked out in Smoker's entire wardrobe. Ace glanced over, and upon seeing him, shot him an accusatory glare.

"Impersonating an officer is illegal." He said matter-of-factly, as though Smoker should have told him of his _before_ he was arrested. Smoker almost laughed at this, almost, because he didn't want the younger to be any more mad at him, and her _certainly _didn't want to damage his love-life with thoughtless actions, so he resorted to watching solemnly as Ace was loaded into the car, offering up a quick "You're an idiot" (Because he couldn't resist) before walking over to try and find out what the freckled boy had done.

---------

Ace had had to sit through a good fifteen minutes of scolding from Smoker for his recklessness and his stupidity before he suffered a Narcoleptic fit, which Ace _thought_ had been conveniently timed until Smoker went off on a tangent about how reckless he was _again,_ adding Narcolepsy to a list of reasons why Ace shouldn't have decided to play hero.

Here, Ace made the mistake of asking Smoker if he was _worried_ about him, which had sent the cop into even _more_ yelling, this time more out of spite than anything else.

After a number of threats and a good deal more scolding, Smoker _finally_ decided to place bail—and only because Ace had threatened to use his one phone call to call his brother or _his _boyfriend because at least one of _them _would get him out.

It was after this that Ace found out that he would be sentenced to a month's community service, and that he would have to get up at _five in the freakin' morning_ to do said community service.

That, plus the fact that Ace didn't get his coffee _or_ his doughnuts, put the usually happy-go-lucky man in a very bad mood. It was then that Ace swore that he would never, _ever_ get up before noon of his own free will again, and Smoker didn't particularly mind, because that didn't change a whole lot.

He put a hand on his shoulder and smirked. Ace, who had been pouting, glanced up at him and tried to hold back a smile. After all, a hand on his shoulder was the Smoker-equivalent of a reassuring hug, and that was good enough for him.

**Yes, I know that this is early, but as I was writing this I realized how fun SmoAce is to write, and I'm too impatient to wait until the 22****nd****, so I'm updating it now. I hope you like it, T, because I lost sight of the goal and started writing for myself about half-way through. –laughs sheepishly- **


End file.
